


Peace Offerings

by Takada_Saiko



Series: Truth in the Lies [10]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Liz/Tom, Pastries, Peace Offerings, Protective Tom, The Major - Freeform, Threats, choosing to trust, ill-intent, old habits, post-Christoph Manheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3575538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Major runs a very strict organization and distractions are not tolerated. Liz/Tom one-shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace Offerings

Notes: So, most of my little one-shots are anywhere from before the series begins to current, but this popped into my head today and wouldn't go away. It takes place after tonight's episode, so technically, it could be blown away by whatever happens. I'm hoping to see a few things tonight: 1. Tom choose to go help Liz, even if it means blowing his cover 2. The Major not being happy with that situation 3. Liz and Tom in the same room trying to work through feelings without actually fully understanding them.

I hope Liz/Tom is endgame, but I think they need a lot of work before then (understatement). Neither of them are on solid ground right now. You have Tom jumping into any job to forget her and Liz sinking so deep into the muck that it's not even funny. They're both broken from their experience together, and my hope is that they can find the pieces of it that were real and build off that. Will it be the same? Absolutely not. Could it work for them? I hope so. Hell, Ryan Eggold ships them, so maybe we have hope!

Anyway, I just thought I'd put that note at the forefront since this is likely to get read by some people after the episode tonight. Hey, maybe I'll get lucky and get all my wishes and wants :D

* * *

**Peace Offerings  
**

"If you're planning to make a habit of this, don't," Liz said tightly without bothering to look up from her phone. Was it too much to ask for a few minutes of relief from the world? Just her, a cup of coffee, and her thoughts. No Reddington, no Fulcrum, and certainly no ex-husband that turned out to be a professional spy. She wasn't looking at anything in particular on her phone, but he hadn't tried to sneak up on her either, so it gave her an excuse. She wasn't sure she could look him in the eye right then, even if he had taken the seat across from her. Every time she tried to put this man behind her he seemed to reappear. While his last appearance had been more useful than she would have liked to admit, she had hoped that maybe he would just slip away into the night like a ghost.

"Coffee for breakfast?" he asked casually, as if she hadn't just told him to get lost.

"You are aware I'm armed, right?"

She wouldn't look at him. She didn't want to see that little quirk of a smile that she knew he was wearing. "Going to shoot me over asking about breakfast, Liz?"

"I haven't decided."

"Probably good that I didn't come empty handed then."

Against her better judgement Liz's eyes flickered up and she saw a box she recognized sitting between them. It bore the brand name of a bakery she loved, but hadn't been to in months now. Not since he had left. It was unopened and very obviously meant as a peace offering. She narrowed her eyes at him.

He looked tired, like he hadn't slept properly in a long while. That smirk that she had expected was there and he was watching her carefully, as if he was waiting for a sign that he needed to hit the ground to avoid any sudden decision to shoot him. In his t-shirt and jeans, the jacket collar obscuring what looked like a half-faded tattoo on his neck from the job he'd abandoned to come help her, he almost looked like _her_ Tom. He wasn't, though, and she had to remember that.

"Not pancakes," he said with that lingering smile that almost looked real. "Promise."

Liz snorted. "What do you want, Tom?"

He blinked, the smile fading a little, and for the briefest of moments he almost looked hurt by the sharpness in her tone. "I wanted to check on you," he said softly.

"I'm fine. Thanks." If for no other reason than to have an excuse to look away from those eyes that hadn't left her yet, she reached out for the box and unfolded the lid to open it. Inside was one of those giant muffins she liked so well. Blueberries and tons of sugar worked in, she immediately pinched a piece off and popped it in her mouth. Well, he always had known how to soften her more biting moods. Not that a muffin could fix anything. She was pretty sure that she wasn't going to shoot him that morning though. She was open to changing her mind on that subject.

Tom sat patiently, watching and waiting. Finally she huffed a sigh. "I take it you're not going back to Germany?"

"Not unless I develop a suicidal streak. That was pretty much a bust when Reddington rolled in."

"I'd say sorry, but I was in trouble because of you."

"Wouldn't have happened if you hadn't chained me up in the bottom of a boat," he pointed out like they weren't discussing the fact that she had held him prisoner for four months, using his health as a bargaining chip for information and he hadn't, in turn, murdered a man that had almost freed him. By the way he said it, he sounded more like they were commenting on the weather.

Liz felt her temper flare anyway and her gaze snapped to meet his, peace offering pastry forgotten. " _You're_ the one that lied, Tom. Our entire life was a job for you and you put a gun to my head. This twisted mess is _your_ doing, not mine." Her voice came out in a quiet hiss, filled with more emotion than she'd allowed herself to show him since he'd been tied to a chair in their dining room.

He sat across from her, blue eyes carefully guarded and the smile had finally faded in full. Slowly he put both hands on the table, the movement cautious and meant to show that he wasn't there as a threat. "That's fair," he said after a moment, his own voice quiet and something strange flickered through his eyes. "I get why you'd think that."

"Why I'd...?" she sputtered. "No. You don't get to pull that bullshit. Go."

He didn't move, nor was he looking her in the eye as he'd been trying to do since he had sat down. Moments ticked by and he pulled in a breath. He let it out again slowly. "Bill was pissed that I broke cover for you. I've never done that before, and I begged for that job."

"You begged to go undercover as a neo-nazi? Nice, Tom. Really."

"That's not- Nevermind." He stood abruptly as if he was going to leave after all, his expression taught like it was when he was too upset to talk about something. She had seen it before, even if it was rare, and wondered if those moments had been as real for him as they were for her. Maybe he really had wanted to be a dad after all.

Tom stopped next to the table and she could see the conflict raging in him. It was like he didn't know what to do with it all. There were questions with no answers and answers to questions he didn't know. At least, that's how she had felt since this had started with that stupid box in their floor. She was drowning beneath it all. She had told Red once that she didn't think she could face everything without Tom at her side. She hadn't let herself dwell on it, but as she studied the small outward expressions of the internal struggle, he looked like he might be drowning too.

_You never asked if I really loved you._

_Because I know the answer._

_I don't think you do._

Finally Tom seemed to make a decision and slid back into his seat, eyes focused so intensely on her that she couldn't look away. "I left because I was trying to break free. I took anything Bill would offer me to get out. I came back because you were in trouble."

Liz stared at him for a moment. She was a profiler, and she'd always thought she was a good one. She still thought that. Tom was just too close. She couldn't trust herself with him, even if the words sounded truer than most that others handed her. "And what did you get out of it?"

"A target on my back," he murmured. "Yours too."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"That wasn't what I expected," he said quickly. "I knew Bill would be pissed, but I didn't think he'd blame you. Just me."

"Dammit, Tom," she growled. Of course he had landed her in more trouble. She couldn't possible breathe between catastrophes, could she?

"Hey, it's not like I meant to do it. I was trying to bail you out, not bury you deeper."

Liz pulled in a steadying breath, reaching for the muffin again. "This so does not cover this, by the way," she groused, and that pulled a small, almost real smile from him.

"Yeah. Gotta start somewhere, right?"

She shook her head, pulling herself back around to the matter at hand. "So what do you mean by target?"

"I don't know for sure. I've been... Well, let's just say I've recently seen some changes in employment."

"What, are you looking for a job? You could always teach," Liz snarked before she really thought it through. There wasn't any real bite to the words, or at least not nearly as much as there should have been. It was dangerous how easy it was to talk to him when he wasn't acting like a complete ass.

Tom chuckled. "Yeah. Guess I could." He reached over to snatch a piece of her muffin and she popped his hand, an old ritual that was, apparently, impossible to leave behind.

"Seriously?"

He smirked, but looked too worn to do much more. "Bill made a veiled threat last time I met with him. He wasn't specific. I got the hint though. I've been following leads on it since then, but if he's made a move none of my contacts - the ones still talking to me - have said."

"Red hasn't said anything about it."

"I'd imagine he monitors threats against you pretty closely," Tom answered with a shrug.

"And you?" Liz kicked herself as soon as the words left her mouth. She shouldn't encourage him. She needed to get him to leave for good. If someone was after her, it was because Tom had been in her life. If he left, if he proved to them that she was just another job, there was a good chance that they would just leave her alone.

The problem was in that Liz wasn't sure she wanted him to prove that. She wasn't sure what she knew and what she thought she knew about her ex-husband, but she was fairly certain that his job - at least at one time - had meant everything to him. He had bailed on an operation the moment Red had told him that Liz needed his help, and while she would never admit the dangerous information out loud, she'd felt chosen again. She felt important to him.

"I'll be around," Tom promised. "I won't let them hurt you."

"You could just go," she said softly, risking a look at his expression. She could give him this out and he would either take it or leave it. "Just disappear."

"I'm not going to let them hurt you, Lizzy," he said sternly, almost like it was an argument he had had with himself several times already. He leaned forward, burying the heels of his hands against his eyes and sighed. His hair was starting to grow back a little, like he hadn't bothered with it and he looked so damned tired where he sat. Liz had to stop herself from reaching out to him. This could all be a game. She couldn't possibly fathom why he would keep playing it, but it could be. Finally he looked up and tried for a smile. "Promise."

The word weighed heavily between them and she remembered all the times he'd promised they would be okay. All those promises, and even after all the pain they had caused each other he was there. It had to count for something. She reached across the table, her fingers barely touching his hand. "I shouldn't trust you."

"I know."

"Why are you really here, Tom?"

"To protect you."

"Why?"

"Because Bill wasn't wrong when he said I put you above the job." His hand shifted under hers and he lifted it up to press a kiss to her knuckles.

Liz was frozen where she was and he released her hand, leaving her utterly incapable of voicing any of the thoughts running through her mind. They ranged from calling him a liar, a manipulator, or anything else that could think of to begging him not to go again. Ever.

"I'll be in touch."

Then he was gone, like he'd never been there at all. She might have thought it was a daydream, a brief break from reality, if it weren't for the pastry box and the way her skin on the back of her hand still tingled. A shaky sigh escaped her and she closed her eyes, regaining her composure. She should tell Ressler, Samar, and Cooper. She should tell Red.

She wouldn't though. Not yet. Something told her Tom had taken a significant personal risk to warn her and she wouldn't betray that. It might be utterly insane, but if it was true, she wouldn't risk her colleagues by dragging them into this. She would be cautious and maybe, just maybe, Tom would make good on the promise that she wanted to believe. Maybe they'd be able to face down this threat together before anyone else got hurt.

* * *

Notes: If you have requests, send them my way! I'll store them away in my little evernote list of ideas for the drabbles and see which plot bunny bites first :D


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